a ghost story.....

A long time ago when I was still a teenager, I took a job of babysitting houses for people who had business out of town. Since we lived in a little cow pasture of a town anyway, everybody knew everybody else... and their cousin, and their cousin's cousin. Well, you get the picture. One house in particular was a pass-down job to me from a friend who used to sit there on occasion. Many times she would call me up and ask me to stay over with her, as it frightened her to stay alone. I guess I couldn't blame her, as the house was actually named: The Grey Ghost Manor. I was too young (only 19) to really think there was anything behind it... only a name of an older home set back on a country road. That is until one time when I stayed there alone.

Upon returning to the house at dusk, after work and grocery shopping a few items for dinner, I parked in the detached garage of the house and started to walk up the short path to the back door. Looking up to the second floor I noticed a light on in the window of a corner room. Strange, I thought, I didn't even go into that room. How could a light be on? Was somebody in the house? Since there were no other cars around, I deduced that I was alone. Or maybe I was just naive enough not to think it all through before I entered the house. No ghost met me at the door, or on the stairs leading up to the second floor. I made my way around to the corner bedroom, saw the light, and shut it off. Whatever turned it on was a mystery to me, and to this day, remains a mystery. But it all didn't end there. I would find things misplaced or moved, and always had a shiver up the back of my spine whenever I traveled into the livingroom. The kitchen stayed warm and friendly, but the livingroom was a complete contrast. There were creaky noises, but my rational mind told me that the house was settling... a lot! After all, it was built in the 1800's.

My last night there gave me the biggest scare of all. I never did actually see a ghost, but I felt it's presence around me somehow. It's not anything I can explain fully, but the goosebumps on my arms convinced me that I could no longer stay here. Perhaps the house missed it's owners and was trying to find a way for me to leave and never come back? I would find out later that my friend had the same experience as well. She would never return, and I told the owners I couldn't either. We never saw anything.... we only felt it, whatever IT was. I'm sure the owners thought us to be silly girls who scared too easily. Regardless, I find it difficult to feel comfortable in a home when I know there are ghosts involved, even if it is in name only.

My brother Karl had a house in Massachusetts that was rumored to have ghosts as well. I didn't know this at the time of accepting his invitation to stay overnight years later when my son was still young. My brother Eric told me about it on the trip up to Karl's, and for the rest of the evening I was too nervous to sleep. Cuddled up with my son on the couch in the livingroom, I left the TV on for noise, glancing up at the stairs that led to the second floor.... looking for any sighting of a ghost coming down. I never did see one, thankfully.

If I want to see a ghost, I'll be patient enough to wait for Halloween to be properly frightened by the kids in the neighborhood and their costumes. Thank goodness for the big bags of candy I purchased, as I'll get quite a few customers tonight.

Happy Halloween!